If Kane’s peopled had tracked their movements, this would be the place for an ambush.
Gerrit watched Alena approach the door. He held his breath as she eased open a gray metal door leading into the hangar, the same location they had arrived from Idaho forty-eight hours earlier. He edged closer in case of trouble, feeling helpless without any weapons. She scanned the area and motioned him inside.
Gerrit glanced at his new watch; it was a quarter past midnight. “Running late?”
She seemed nervous, answering him with a shrug.
“Isn’t this risky returning to the same place we used upon arrival?”
Alena grimaced. “I know it’s risky, but if we are all clean of tracking devices, we should be okay.”
“What if they used some other technique to track us-like satellites?”
“Then we just shoot our way out, Gerrit. How do I know?” She seemed surprised at her own outburst. “Sorry. This whole thing has me jumpy.”
A portable MRI machine had been wheeled into one corner of the hangar. He pointed. “Is that for us?”
This seemed to break the tension for a moment. She gave him a quick smile, nodded, then walked to the main hangar door, pushing on a button for a second and then releasing it. The door opened up just enough to see outside. She crouched down and peered into the night. He heard a jet taxiing about a hundred yards away, the sound growing stronger. It was heading toward them.
She studied the approaching aircraft. A moment later, her shoulders relaxed. She sprang to the side and pressed the button to allow the door to open all the way. “Here they come. As soon as they’re inside, I am going to shut this door. Keep your eyes open on that back door for anything unusual.”
He shook his head and headed for the smaller door. Even if there was something suspicious, what was he supposed to do? No gun. No badge. Couldn’t even call the cops. Some army here. Not even a Taser gun between them.
He grabbed the handle and opened the door just a crack and looked outside. Blackness punctuated with stabs of yellow light from nearby streetlamps. No one moving around. As dead as a heart monitor in the morgue.
The aircraft taxied into the hangar, the huge doors swinging closed as soon as the aircraft engines died down. Joe was the first one down the stairs. He hurried toward Alena, where they whispered for a few moments, occasionally turning their attention toward him.
Willy came down the stairs and saw Gerrit standing near the door. He waved and came over to chat. “Whassup, man?” He gave Gerrit a high five. “See y’all still alive and kicking. That’s good.”
“Tell me what’s going on, Willy. Got that message from Joe.”
“Oh, Mr. J will fill you in on everything. Just give him a moment to chat with Al.” He eyed the MRI machine. “You ready to get fried?” He jutted out his chin toward the machine. “I heard those things can make a guy go sterile. Any truth to that, Mr. G?”
“I thought you were up on all the computer technology and stuff. You think an MRI will cook your privates?” Gerrit could not hide his grin.
Willy frowned. “You got to be careful with all this stuff. You never know what they got inside these machines.” He saw Gerrit’s grin widen. “What’s so funny?”
“Reminds me of one of the old salts I worked with at SPD. He liked to work motors and used those portable radars for traffic enforcement. One day he backed me up on a call, a domestic violence case where a young punk kept getting in my face. He thought he was a tough guy, and I could tell he terrified the girl. But the guy wouldn’t say a thing I could use against him. I knew this clown had been pushing her around, but I couldn’t get anyone to say anything. There were no visible injuries, and the house was a mess, so I couldn’t tell if he’d been shoving her around the place. I would have to leave without taking action unless one of them came through and gave me a statement.”
“So what happened? You have to leave?”
“Nah. The old-timer I was telling you about went outside and returned a moment later with his radar gun. He moved in on this young stud-still sprawled out in the chair without a care in the world-and pointed the gun right at his crotch.”
Willy gave him an incredulous look. “What was he going to do with that thing? No power source. It was dead in the water.”
“You know that, and I know that, but this piece of garbage in the chair didn’t know it. He’d put down a few brews, and his breath was so strong I could have lit up the room with a cigarette lighter. The booze must have addled what little brains this clown still possessed. Anyway, he looks up at my partner and stammers, ‘Whatcha gonna do with that, officer?’ My partner looks over at me and says, ‘Ask that moron one more time what he did to the girl. If he tells you a lie, I’m going to hit him with a blast from this radar gun. This radiation ought to put him out of the baby-making business-for good.’”
“What happened? Did he talk?” Willy looked at Gerrit, then over at the MRI machine.
“Man, that guy low-crawled over to me, got down on his knees, covered his crotch, and began spilling his guts. Gave me enough information that I called a female officer to come check the girl for injuries. Sure enough, that piece of garbage had been hitting her in places where he knew we’d never see and couldn’t look without the girl’s cooperation. Before we arrived, he’d warned her that if she let the cops take a peek, he would kill her and then start in on her folks.”
Willy looked back at the MRI. “Getting back to my question…”
Redneck emerged from the plane, heavy steps causing the metal to groan as he lumbered down the stairway. “You guys miss me?” He acted as if it was a family reunion.
Joe came over to where Gerrit and Willy stood, followed by Alena. She gestured toward the MRI machine. “Well, Gerrit, ready to strip down?”
Joe looked at her. “What are you talking about? That machine’s headed for a rural hospital tomorrow.”
Willy and Alena looked at each other and began laughing. Willy pointed toward Gerrit. “He thinks we’re going to strip him naked and run him through the MRI for bugs and chips? I just played along like I was stupid or something.” He wiped a tear from his eye and pulled out a handheld scanner from his backpack. “Here you go. Mr. G. Park yourself over here and let ol’ Willy check you out.”
Joe stared back. He was not laughing. “Look, we picked up traffic that they planned on sending a team to the cabin in Idaho late last night. We passed it on, and Travis and Frank White Eagle caught a couple of them crossing the river early this morning. The others scattered, and the two they caught clammed up. Couldn’t make anything stick. Had to let them go.”
Gerrit looked from his uncle to Alena. “They’re looking for us.”
Joe said, “I think they were looking for you, Gerrit. You contact anyone up there since we left Seattle?”
Shaking his head, Gerrit looked at the others. “What about the rest of you?”
They shook their heads. Alena piped up, “We know better than that.”
“So who tipped them off?”
Joe scratched his chin. “Maybe no one. Maybe they found out about the connection between Travis and me and came snooping to see what they could dig up.”
Gerrit coughed before responding. “What do we do now?”
Silence filled the hangar. Finally Joe stepped forward, placing a hand on Gerrit’s shoulder. “It’s time we stopped running and took the offensive. It is time we attack.”
“Attack?” He stared at his uncle to make sure the man was serious. “What are we going to attack? Better yet, what are we going to use to attack once we have a target? We don’t even have a pea shooter between us.”
Redneck drew closer, chuckling. “Man, you have no idea what kind of weapons we have. When Mr. J gives the word, we can go to war with weapons you only dreamed about.”
“And who’s going to fight this war, R. D.? Willy the computer geek? Alena the book binder? Joe the scientist? And you…what kind of fighting have you done outside of a barroom? No offense, guys, but this is hardly a fighting unit.”
Redneck looked at the others. “I think this man just disrespected us, Mr. J. Shall we give him a demonstration?”
Joe shrugged. “Just don’t hurt him.”
Redneck nodded toward Alena. The next thing Gerrit knew, he was lying on his back, with Alena kneeling on his chest, switchblade pointed at his neck. She had swept his legs from under him in one fluid motion, using his weight to her advantage.
She leaned closer and whispered, “And that’s how a chef does it.”